


I Guess Any Thrill Will Do

by Broadway_trashdump



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Library, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Dyslexia, Enjolras is a curator for the library and i love her, F/F, Fingering, Grantaire is a boxer and i love her, HAROLD THEY'RE LESBIANS, New York City, Oral Sex, Rule 63, The Book Thief - Freeform, a library lesbian, enjolras works in a library, fem!Enjolras, fem!Grantaire - Freeform, grantaire has dyslexia, just read it i promise its better than the tags are telling you, therefore she is a Libsian
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-25
Updated: 2021-01-25
Packaged: 2021-03-18 00:00:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,366
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28983003
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Broadway_trashdump/pseuds/Broadway_trashdump
Summary: What started as a simple trip to the library somehow ended up a whirlwind for Grantaire.
Relationships: Courfeyrac/Jean Prouvaire, Enjolras/Grantaire (Les Misérables), Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 30





	I Guess Any Thrill Will Do

**Author's Note:**

> BIIIIIIIIG thank u to Lo for beta'ing this hot mess express and making it somewhat salvageable, ilysm.

Grantaire does not often do favors for people, it leads to them expecting things from you. Of course, Jehan is different and she would do anything for them. So that’s how Grantaire ended up at the library across the street after weight training and boxing practice today— a favor for Jehan. 

Who, you may ask, uses the library anymore? A one Jehan Pouvaire, that’s who. They checked out a stack of queer poetry books; Pablo Neruda, Rupi Kaur, and Arisa White among the authors. Grantaire flipped through Pablo Neruda's collection as she waited in line to return the books. She always hated reading, dyslexia is a hell of a drug and she hasn’t read a book since she was a sophomore in high school. 

A line at the library, who knew? She was almost sure Jehan was the only one who stepped foot in the local public library in the last ten years, but apparently not. She stretches and yawns, adjusting her gym bag on her shoulder. Bahorel absolutely beat her down today; weights, sparring, and bag work, and Grantaire was feeling it. 

After about 10 minutes of waiting, she pulls out a headphone to see what’s taking so long. Two people ahead of her the patron is arguing with the woman sitting at the desk. 

“I just don’t know why I can’t speak with the manager about moving the gay section back where it was, in the back corner!” The customer argues, waving her hands wildly, towards the Books of the Month Shelf in the front of the library. 

The woman sitting behind the desk barely looks up from her computer screen at the woman ranting in front of her and Grantaire is awestruck. She is absolutely breathtaking. Her hair is blonde, and pulled to the side in a sensible braid, glasses resting on her nose as she types away on the computer, not even minding the woman in front of her ranting. Her eyes catch Grantaire– her beautiful blue eyes. Grantaire can’t help but stare. 

The clerks words burn through the air, a sense of finality to it, bringing Grantaire back into focus- 

“Ma’am, as I have said previously; first, it is the LGBTQIA+ section, not ‘the gay section’.” She ends with air quotes. 

She looks up, pushing away from her computer slightly, now making full eye contact with the woman, “as for the manager, I am the curating manager for what books are on display where. It is books of the month, and the month is July, which is when most pride celebrations are held.” 

The woman just stares on as the desk clerk— no, manager– continues absolutely roasting her. 

“Now you have exactly two minutes to return your books, cancel your library card, or change your mindset— I’ll give you a second to consider.” She says, turning back to her computer, typing away, hidden by the large iMac screen. 

“So what are you? Some kind of dyke? That’s why you 'curate' the gay books to the front?” The woman sneers 

Before the woman behind the desk even has a chance to respond, Grantaire springs forward. 

“Ex-fucking-scuse me, Judith? Are you fucking serious right now?” 

Grantaire is no small woman, nor a woman you would want on your bad side. There’s a reason she’s a boxing champ, and can knock almost anyone out of the ring. Simply put, she is a 5’11, broad-shouldered, muscular, heavily tattooed menace. Coming straight from the gym, she’s in an old band tee cut into a muscle shirt and some short gym shorts. Her kinky black hair is pulled back into a tight bun and her arms are crossed across her chest, revealing most of her tattoos on her forearms; a tiger, a few flowers, and some sort of writing. 

The woman sputters beneath her gaze, unsure what to do. 

“Now I believe my friend here asked you to return her books, and your library card because this is clearly a place you don’t belong.” The woman quickly deposits her books into the clerks waiting hand and then tosses her library card on the desk before scurrying out. 

The next patron comes up, quickly offering up his books to be checked out, and leaves with a curt nod and smile to the employee. Finally, it’s Grantaire’s turn, she walks up rifling through her gym bag for Jehan’s books. 

“I’m not a damsel in distress.” The curator speaks up as she taps her fingers waiting for the books. Grantaire looks up, pausing her search. 

“I didn’t stop her for you. I stopped her because other people around the library don’t need to hear slurs while they’re browsing the periodicals,” she says, dropping three of the poetry books on the counter. 

The clerk just rolls her eyes, and holds her hand out— “library card?” 

“Oh uh, I don’t have one. I’m dropping these off for a friend.” 

She looks up, feigning shock— “oh wow, how bizarre. A dumb juice head from the gym across the street doesn’t read. Color me shocked. Name?” She finishes with an eye roll, scanning the books then waiting for her response. 

“Uh… Grantaire and what the fuck?” 

She continues scanning the books, not even looking up to reply “you come in here with your savior complex like I couldn’t defend myself to Melissa— who, like the 400 other bigots in this town—comes to complain to me about how I curate the library to include LGBTQIA and disabled people’s stories.” 

She turns on her chair to add the books to the pile of returns and back to Grantaire who is still standing there, shocked. 

“Well? Are you going to say something or go?” 

Grantaire just laughs, but it’s dry and mirthless as she leans on the counter of the desk. “Listen here princess, you don’t fucking know me. I don’t come to the library because it’s not 2006 and I’m not trying to take an AR test before school tomorrow because the power is out at home.”

“Don’t call me princess.” 

“So what do I call you?” 

The girl huffs, blowing a strand of hair out of her face, and crosses her arms, before finally saying “Enjolras.” 

“Well Enjolras, I box at the gym across the street. I also am an artist. I also have dyslexia and haven’t read since my sophomore year of high school because it physically hurts my fucking brain to do so.” 

Enjolras tries to speak up, but Grantaire just raises her hand, “no, I don’t want it. I don’t want your shitty apology about how ‘you didn’t know, you wouldn’t have said it’. That was a shitty thing to say, it was almost as shitty as fuckin Judith back there.” With that, Grantaire turns back towards the door, shrugging her gym bag farther up her shoulder. 

“Hey! Hey, wait!” Enjolras tries to follow her, but the glass door to the library closes promptly in her face. She sighs and leans on the door running her hands through the hairs falling out of her braid. 

“Smooth move Ms. Curator,” Courfeyrac says from the return stack of books he is loading onto his cart to disinfect and put back on the shelf. 

She groans and flips the Open sign to Closed, as Courf makes an announcement that the library will be closing in 5 minutes. 

Enjolras sighs and flings herself back in her chair in front of the computer. 

Courf comes around the other side of the desk and leans on the counter in front of her, smiling like a dork as he traces the wood grain of the desk. “So…” 

Enjolras raises her hand, a perfectly manicured sky blue fingernail to stop Courf from continuing on-- which he promptly ignores, playfully grabbing her finger and pulling it down, laughing softly 

“Come on Enjolras you are the absolute worst! She came in here, defended your honor! You should've seen how she was looking at you before she heard what Melissa was saying--” 

Enjolras rolls her eyes and takes her glasses off, rubbing her eyes softly, avoiding her mascara and eyeliner. “I am not a defenseless girl who can’t fight her own battles!” 

Courf sighs and leans over, placing a warm hand on her shoulder-- “Listen Enj, You are not a soft, defenseless girl, but people are allowed to protect you, and see you as a cute girl in a library who maybe they wanted to take on a date until you thoroughly insulted them about their reading skills, unknowing that they had a learning disability.” 

Enjolras groans and shoves his hand off her shoulder, “I knew you were listening! Is that why there's so many books to be put away today?! You just eavesdropped your entire shift?!” 

Courf rolls his eyes, and pushes his cart towards the shelves of books, still calling back to Enjolras through the small library rows of books. “Listen Enj, all I'm saying is that-- you owe her some kind of apology.” 

A lightbulb seems to flicker on in her brain, and she begins typing away on her computer. 

\-----------------

Jehan walks into the apartment they share with Grantaire, strolling into the kitchen with Trader Joe’s bags in their hands. They quickly deposit them on the counter, putting the oat milk and some yogurt that Grantaire likes to add to her smoothies in the morning in the fridge when they hear Grantaire's bedroom door slam, but they are all but used to her moods. 

When they turn from the fridge, Grantaire is there, caught in the act of opening the brand new package of cookies. 

But something is different about her. She’s in sweatpants and a pull over hoodie, the hood drawn over her head and cinched closed around her face. She stands like a deer in headlights and cookie in hand. 

“R, why are you snacking? And you’re in your sad girl hoodie; what happened?” 

Grantaire sighs and sits at the kitchen island, studying the cookie in her hand. Jehan nods and comes to sit next to her, waiting for her to speak up. 

“Jehan… am i dumb?” 

Jehan straightens up and turns towards her on the barstool “Now who told you that, you tell me and I’ll make sure it is never muttered again!” 

This makes Grantaire laugh, as if Jehan could fight anyone, or as if she needed someone to defend her. It was still a nice thought. 

“It’s not that-- it’s not that she said that specifically. Well, she did call me a dumb juice head. But-- the librarian, or whatever. Curator.” 

“Enjolras” Jehan supplies, nodding. “She is… heh-- a bit impassioned you know?” 

She nods, taking a tentative bite of the cookie in her hand.

Jehan realises that this must be really bothering her, he leans on her strong shoulder, a comforting sense washing over her from the contact. “You know you’re not stupid, R. you having dyslexia does not mean you aren’t a smart, beautiful woman who can crack a watermelon with your thighs like a walnut. So, you’re even fucking hotter.” 

Grantaire laughs at this, almost spitting out her cookie. “ONE time, Prouvaire! One time when I was drunk!” Jehan laughs, flinging their head back as they do so “It was hot! Very powerful, thats how i want to go, my head crushed by my roommates strong fucking legs.” 

Grantaire laughs again, then finishes her cookie. “Listen-- I’m just, not gonna go to the library again, okay? Or I'll drop books off when she isn’t working. It just-- she really knows how to make you feel like shit without her even knowing you.” 

Jehan just nods and hugs her tightly. 

\-----------

Every day, Enjolras stands by the window in her office that looks out to the other shops in the busy neighborhood, and looks at the gym across the busy street. 

She sees her the first day, around lunch time. A mop of thick, curly hair bounding down the sidewalk from the subway station. When her hair is down Enjolras can see that there's streaks of blue and green in her hair, twisting into black strands. But when her hair is down, Enjolras can no longer see the shaved back of her head, which Enjolras quite admired. But she’s beautiful, she has the confidence of any runway model as she swings the door to the gym open.

The other girl, whose name she didn't get to catch, didn't even send a passing glance to the library. 

Every day, for about a week, Enjolras stood in front of the window in her office, hoping the girl would come back. 

On Friday, she watches on her lunch break, and she never walks by. So Enjolras just returns to the desk, answering some emails about some of the events the library has coming up, including a Drag Queen reading stories to children a couple fridays this month, and an open mic night for poetry. 

A library usual, Jehan, approaches the desk with a stack of books to check out. She just smiles and nods, scanning the books out, not feeling very chatty today. 

“You know, if i can be so bold Ms. Enjolras, but--” they sigh, pulling at their cuticles, eyes down cast. “You really hurt her feelings. She seems all big and tough but-- you really hurt her feelings.” 

Enjolras snaps her head up, locking eyes with Jehan. 

“Those were your books, weren’t they? I didn’t even realize. I-- I tried to apologize but she just ran out!” 

Jehan nods, collecting the books from the counter and loading them into their tote. Before they can leave Enjolras practically throws herself out of her desk chair, stumbling to stand up straight and presentable quickly. She dusts off her pants, pulling the matching navy blazer down, dusting herself off again. Courferyac always says there’s no reason for her to dress so professionally but she does anyway-- she's the curator and she takes pride in how she dresses, okay? 

“uh-- “ she clears her throat, pushing her hair back off her shoulder, the same sensible braid as every day. “Will you? Come with me? I have something i'd like you to pass along to your friend-- from me, to her.” Enjolras clumsily runs through her words, a way Jehan has never seen her act. 

Jehan just nods and follows her to the offices in the library. Enjolras’ office is, well, messy. There are stacks of books everywhere, high off the ground, almost hip level to Jehan, who is no short person. There's books on her desk, books on her windowsill, books on bookshelves. 

There is also a sensible desk, and two plush pink chairs for guests to sit. She motions to the chair for Jehan to sit-- “it’ll just be a minute, I uh-- have to find it.” she says with a nervous laugh. Jehan just sits in the velvet chair, reading the spines of books around them. 

“So, are these like new? You’re putting these out on the shelves?” 

Enjolras pops up from a stack of books and looks around, pushing her glasses up. “Some are my personal books, some are being worked into the shelves, some are being donated to a local school for underprivileged students.” 

Jehan nods, now understanding what the stack of Magic Treehouse books were for. 

“Okay okay I found it!” Enjolras stands up, holding a book shaped package, wrapped in brown paper and tied with a gold string, a card tucked under the ties. 

Jehan hesitates to take the package-- “Enjolras, she really doesn’t read books-- I thought you guys covered that.” they add with a chuckle

She just shoves the package into their hands, withdrawing hers quickly. “No, no I know, trust me I know.” She huffs out a forced laugh “it’s just, it’s— just please give it to her?”

Jehan shrugs, and nods “okay, yeah, I uh, will. Thank you.”

Her smile instantly brightens, though still tense and nervous, and nods happily.

“Oh and uh, here.” She ducks behind her desk again then pulls out a new canvas tote from behind her desk, it reads _“What’s the tallest building in your city? The library, because it has the most stories.”_ And a clearly clip art cityscape with a little dinky library clip art in the middle, and finally ‘New York Public Library EST. 1895’

“I noticed your tote had a hole in it, and uh, these weren’t big sellers from a fundraiser we had for the library.”

Jehan does laugh at the pun though “that’s funny though, did you come up with that?”

Enjolras chuckles. “No, I really have a dry sense of humor... the assistant librarian did, Courfeyrac.”

Courf pops his head into her office— “I have been summoned”

Enjolras groans, but it’s almost a laugh as she marches over and shoves him out of the office, following him back into the lobby, Courf throws a backward glance to Jehan, still laughing and smiling. There’s a certain twinkle in his eye and maybe Jehan finally understands what Pablo Neruda has been crooning about, _"I want to do with you what spring does with the cherry trees"_.

\-------------

Jehan arrives home to Grantaire hanging upside down off the couch watching cartoons, hand above her head as she aimlessly grabs for the bowl of popcorn just out of reach. Jehan laughs and pushes the bowl closer to her hand. 

"Thank you Je." she says as she shovels a handful of popcorn into her mouth. 

"Hey I have something for you, meet me in the kitchen." 

Grantaire groans and rolls off the couch, landing on the hardwood floor with a thump and an ‘oof’. She gets up, picking her now empty popcorn bowl off the ground and follows them into the kitchen. She is clad in only a pair of green pajama pants with racoons in Santa hats on them, a black sports bra and an open zip up hoodie. Very suitable for July.

Jehan just laughs and drops the new canvas tote on the counter, rifling through for the package from Enjolras.  
“First of all, Jehan what the fuck is this tote? Is this clip art?” she says with a laugh, reading the print on the canvas. 

“Enjolras gave it to me, the assistant librarian made it.” they say with a laugh, pulling out the brown wrapped package and gold string, handing it to Grantaire. She looks down, considering what exactly is in her hand. 

“This is from Enjolras, she said it was for you, from her specifically.”

Grantaire just huffs a laugh out, trying to hand the book back to Jehan, who refuses. “Jehan you know I don't read.”  
“R, you don't even know what it is yet, give her a chance.”  
\------  
Grantaire retreats to her room, sitting on the edge of her bed, pulling one of her legs up to tuck under the other. She carefully unties the golden string, noting to herself how it mimics the gold of Enjolras’ hair. She picks up the card first, perfectly neat cursive across the front, ‘Rene’. It makes Grantaire hate her first name a little less, to see it written so beautifully. She opens the envelope carefully, pulling out a piece of stationery that reads _’From the desk of J. Enjolras, Curator for the New York City Public Library, Battery Park Branch’_

How pretentious, Grantaire thinks to herself. 

The beautiful cursive handwriting continues, completely filling up the page. 

_” Grantaire,_

_I am so sorry for my comments the other day. I never meant to offend you, It was just the combination of a bad day, and the snappy customer before you--Melissa, or Judith as you aptly named her-- and you are not the first patron from the gym across the street who came in and defended me, but the others were men who expected me to swoon for them and fall to their feet and it wasn't right. But it wasn't right of me to expect you to be the same as them, especially a beautiful woman such as yourself._

_Ahem, anyway. As a curator of a library, and someone whose love language is gift giving, I found this: it is my favorite book of all time, in a specialty font for people with dyslexia. I do hope you’ll enjoy it, and maybe come back into the library and let me know what you think?_

_Or even better, here is my number, feel free to text me, if you’re not comfortable coming back into the library.  
xxx-xxx-xxxx  
-Enjolras. _

Grantaire scoffs at the letter, the completely false and untrue compliments paid, but she does set the letter gingerly down on her nightstand. She unwraps the book, revealing a crisp white cover: in black letters it reads ‘The Book Thief’.  
Grantaire really doubts that she will even be able to read the book, but just shrugs and cracks it open, she should at least try to read it if Enjolras went so out of her way to find this book for her. 

The words came easily to her, and she felt her breath catch in her throat. 

_”First the colors. Then the humans. That's how I usually see things. Or at least, how I try.”_

As the night passed, Grantaire found herself in a number of places, reading through this book. The balcony, the kitchen, and finally, at 6:30AM, she passed out on the couch, the book open on her chest, almost finished with the whole 550 page work in the matter of 12 hours. 

Jehan smiles at this as they get ready for work, taking the book and sliding a bookmark in the pages that are left and setting it on the coffee table. Jehan then pulls a throw blanket out and places it on Grantaire as she sleeps, pressing a kiss to her forehead before leaving for the day. 

\--------

Enjolras usually is not in the library on a Saturday, but came in today due to the piles of books taking up space in her mind. She's dressed oddly comfortably today, in leggings, red vans, and a black pullover hoodie. Her usual sensible braid has been long abandoned and her blonde curls are popping out in every direction. She sits on the floor, scanner in hand, adding books to the software for the library card system, shoes off, as casual as possible. 

Courferyac is helping her; he adds the sticker on the inside cover that says ‘Property of NYPL system, Battery park’ with the barcode, and she scans them into the computer system. Saturday is a notoriously slow day at the library, so they just chat idly about the weather, and Mayor DeBlasio raising subway fair again. Eventually he stands up and stretches, walking over to the windows in her office, looking out to the busy street. 

“Jo, come look-- She's got your book!” Courf says, pointing out where Enjolras can't see. She gets up off the floor padding over to the windows. Across the street, on the bench in front of the gym, Grantaire sits with her nose buried in a book-- the book Enjolras bought her, it's only been about two days since she gave the book to Jehan, and is surprised to see Grantaire with it.

Enjolras smiles brightly, noting how far along she is in the book. Then of course, Grantaire closes the book, looks up, and starts talking towards the library. 

“Shit, shit, SHIT!” Enjolras says, diving to the ground, hiding from the view of the windows. Courfeyrac laughs, doubling over at Enjolras hiding from the other girl. 

She hears the bell ring at the front desk and squeaks, god to honest squeaks. Courf cannot contain himself as tears spring to his eyes. Enjolras just grumbles and shoos him away. “Go! Go see what she wants! I don’t even have makeup on today, oh god what the fuck,” she says, army crawling to her desk. 

Courf takes a second to compose himself, then goes out to the front desk, where Grantaire waits. She's in her usual gym attire, a ripped up t-shirt, short gym shorts and high top boxing shoes, her gym bag slung on her shoulder. 

“Hi, how can I help you?” Courf asks happily. 

“Is she here? The uh-- curator?” 

Courf considers for a minute, knocking his head back and forth, as if he is making a pro and con list. 

“You know what, she is here. Follow me.” he says, waving a hand to follow him as he walks back into the offices. 

Enjolras is standing with her back to the door, reaching on her tippy toes trying to get a book off the top of the shelf. Courf clears his throat causing Enjolras to peer over her shoulder, and practically throws herself on the ground to hide behind her desk. Grantaire just laughs and comes over, first taking the book off the top shelf for her, then squatting next to where Enjolras hides behind the desk. 

Enjolras chuckles nervously and stands up, dusting herself off, trying to stand a little straighter, and dusting her pants off. “Oh, hi. Hello there. How are you?” she says, sitting in her leather chair, crossing her legs, sitting a little straighter. Courferyac just sighs deeply and walks out closing the door behind him. 

“Please, take a seat.” she says, motioning to the soft pink chairs in front of her desk. 

“I oddly feel like I'm in the principal's office, but okay.” she sits down and pulls her gym bag on her lap. 

“Uh, I don't have long, I have to get to practice… but--” she pulls out the book and a tote bag folded up into a square. “--This book? Was fucking amazing. I finished it in two days. Thank you, so much.”  
She nods, placing the book on the end of her desk. 

“Then uh, that tote bag you gave Jehan was just truly, awful. So I made this for you” she unfolds the canvas tote and it has the actual New York skyline, and a little spot with the library on it, hand painted, and the text is beautiful, still reading Courf’s stupid pun on it. 

Enjolras instantly brightens, smiling wildly as she reaches over the desk, holding the bag, feeling the painting. “Oh my god this is beautiful, did you do this?” 

Grantaire nods, smiling softly. “The other one was just, terrible please don’t do that again.” She adds with a laugh. 

Hours pass, and they talk. They talk about The Book Thief, they talk about books, they talk about how Grantaire hates her name, and by the end of the conversation and the way Enjolras says ‘R’ makes butterflies flutter in her stomach. 

Before she knows it, it’s time to go home, and Enjolras doesn’t want to leave. She doesn’t want the conversation to end. She doesn’t want to miss the way R’s nose crinkles when she laughs, or how she takes her hair down, puts it up, and takes it down. They’re standing outside the library as Enjolras locks up, Courf smiles and salutes her as he walks to the opposite direction, adding a sneaky wink as he turns. 

She turns to Grantaire again, smiling softly 

“Uh, would you like to get dinner? Say Monday night?” 

——————

Sunday comes and goes and suddenly it’s Monday night and Grantaire is dressed for her date. Jehan laid the outfit out for her, tight plaid pants, perfectly outlining her strong legs and butt. A white button up shirt with the sleeves rolled up, and the top few buttons open, showing off her chest. Her hair is down, blue and green ringlets falling around her face, and makeup beautifully done by Jehan. 

She walks out of her room and a wolf whistle comes from the couch, where Jehan and the man from the library, Courfeyrac— she thinks— sits. 

“Hot damn mama, lookin’ good.” He says, as Jehan swats him playfully. 

“It’s just so odd that you’re here… but thank you.” Grantaire says, smiling softly, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. 

Jehan stands, and smacks her hand away softly, “no fidgeting tonight, you’re gonna kill your curl pattern before she ever gets to see you. Courf and I are going to go back to his apartment, so, you know,” They say with a wink that makes Courf laugh and Grantaire groan. 

“Have fun lover girl! I’ll warn you Enjolras has a tonka truck ass in the outfit she’s planning. Exquisite, enjoy.” 

––––––––

Grantaire stands outside this stupidly fancy restaurant, fiddling with a button on the sleeve of her shirt. Waiting. Someone clears their throat and when she turns around she instantly can’t breathe. Enjolras stands there, in a tight red dress that perfectly contours her curves, the cut of her dress plunging, revealing the curves of her breasts. She’s in a pair of red matching pumps, but she still is shorter than Grantaire. Her hair is straightened, and her makeup is done perfectly, her lips red and full, no glasses today, it must be contacts. Grantaire can’t formulate a sentence, trying not to stare.

Enjolras smiles sweetly, a soft blush rushing onto her cheeks. “Shall we?” When she turns to enter the restaurant, well, Grantaire can’t help herself to stare at the perfectly plump heart shaped ass that she is faced with, and she finally understands what Courfeyrac meant by tonka truck ass. 

The two enjoy dinner, and Enjolras can’t help but feel her stomach flutter when Grantaire laughs, or smiles, or just looks at her with this hunger in her eyes. 

They shared a bottle of wine, and a lot of laughs, and the two are currently walking to the subway, dinner paid and to go bag in hand. 

“Well this is my stop, do you maybe uh—“ Grantaire says, rubbing the back of her head. 

Enjolras decides, of course, that it’s now or never. She steps up, pulling Grantaire down softly and meets her in a searing kiss. Grantaire practically drops the to go bag, her other hand wrapping around Enjolras’ waist as she kisses back. 

Another woman clears her throat on the platform, glaring at them and covering her son's eyes. Enjolras can’t help but laugh as they pull apart, Grantaire’s golden skin tinged darker by blush. 

They sit on the train, Enjolras throws her leg over Grantaire’s, rubbing her red leather heel against the other girl's leg, smiling, but there’s heat behind it, her pupils blown, hunger behind them. 

————— 

Grantaire can barely get the key in the door and open before Enjolras is wrapping her arms around her neck, peppering hot kisses across her lips, down her neck 

Through giggles, Grantaire speaks up. “Enj we gotta make it in my apartment first.” 

She does what she thinks is best, and picks her up around the waist, Enjolras laughs and hooks her ankles together around Grantaire’s waist. 

Grantaire opens the door and kicks it closed after them. Instantly Enjolras’ lips find hers again, tongues finding their way into the others mouth. By the time they made it into her bedroom Enjolras was unbuttoning the rest of her shirt, revealing a black lace bralette. Grantaire throws her on the bed softly, climbing on top of her, her knees resting on the side of the smaller girls hips. 

Enjolras reaches behind herself trying to unzip her dress. Grantaire flips her softly, finishing for Enjorlas and pulling it down over the curve of her ass, revealing a matching red bra and red lace thong. Grantaire groans and kisses down her back, unhooking her bra as she makes her way down to her ass, peppering kisses in the small of her back. 

“You know, Courfeyrac was here and told me you had—“ she laughs between kisses, “a tonka truck ass, and you know what? He’s right.” 

Grantaire sits up and lands a swift smack to Enjolras’s ass below her, and a sensual moan escapes her lips. Enjolras turns over under Grantaire’s legs, flinging her bra the rest of the way off. Grantaire just stares at her for a minute— Enjolras’s hair is spread out all around her, lipstick smudged slightly, and her beautiful breasts out, nipples hard and pink and just asking to be kissed. Her white skin stands out against the dark green sheets and duvet on the bed. 

Enjolras blushes hard under Grantaire's gaze, lifting her arms above her head then arching her back up towards Grantaire. 

Grantaire helps her shimmy the rest of the way out of her dress and kisses her again, just quick and simple, then working her way down. Kisses on her neck, down her chin, then to her chest, taking her nipple in her mouth, sucking slightly and swirling her tongue against it. Enjolras groans under her touch, arching her back again. 

Grantaire abandons her breasts, trailing kisses down to the band of her underwear. She glances up, smiling. “Do you mind if I?” She asks, snapping the band of her thong against her hip. 

Enjolras nods, sliding her ass closer to Grantaire’s face. She just laughs and slides down a little, pushing Enjolras’ legs further apart. She kisses the inside of Enjolras’ thigh, then grabs the wet lace with her teeth, pulling them away from Enjolras’ entrance, making the girl shutter. 

“So wet for me, all for me?” She says, breath close to Enjolras making her shutter again. 

“Don’t be cocky. Just get in there.” 

Grantaire laughs softly and dips back down, first connecting tongue to her clit, sucking and playfully nibbling softly, then sliding a finger in. She listens to the wonderful sighs and moans coming from Enjolras’ beautiful, beautiful mouth. 

Grantaire adds a second finger, curling them in her and feeling her tighten up as Grantaire continues to suckle and tongue at her clit. 

She pulls away just at the right moment to watch Enjolras climax, her hips rutting down onto Grantaire’s fingers, riding her orgasm out, perfect moans escaping her from deep in her throat. 

Grantaire grins and sits up, slowly extracting herself as she finishes. She gets up, shimmying off her dress pants, and pulling on her pajama pants, then pulling off her bralette looking for a t-shirt. 

“Hey, hey get back here.” Enjolras says through a yawn. 

“Gotta… you know, give some in return.” She says sleepily, making grabby hands towards Grantaire. 

She laughs and throws a shirt on, coming over to kiss Enjolras, who’s hands instantly slide under Grantaire’s baggy shirt, palming her large breast. Grantaire laughs softly and breaks the kiss, pulling Enjolras’s arm out of her shirt. “You don’t have to worry about me sweets, do you need anything?” 

Enjolras chuckles “Can I actually take a shower? I know that’s random but…” 

Grantaire shakes her head. “No, no you’re good— yeah totally uh, lemme get a shirt or something for you to wear.” 

—————— 

Grantaire made her way into bed, under the covers, watching some stupid cooking show when Enjolras comes out of the bathroom. 

Her hair is wrapped in a towel, but she’s wearing Grantaire’s green hoodie, sleeves covering her hands, and the bottom barely covering her ass. 

Something about Enjolras in her sweatshirt makes Grantaire’s heart flutter in her chest. 

“Is? This okay? I’m always cold and I saw this on the hook in the bathroom.” She says standing against the edge of the bed. Grantaire smiles and nods, reaching a hand out to her, which Enjolras takes gladly and lets herself be pulled into the bed with a giggle, her hands going instantly to Grantaire’s hair, scratching her scalp softly as Grantaire leans into the touch and rests her head on Enjolras’ chest, watching the cooking show again. 

The two fall asleep tangled up together. 

——————— 

Around 4 am Grantaire feels Enjolras pull herself away. She groans and rolls over, facing the other side of her bed, where Enjolras is sitting up. 

“What are you doing, sweets?” She asks, her voice thick with sleep. 

Enjolras turns softly. “Oh, oh I’m going. I didn’t think you’d want me to be here in the morning.” She says softly, her words heavy in the air. Grantaire rubs her eyes softly “why wouldn’t I want you here in the morning?” 

Enjolras pointedly stares at the wall ahead, the off tv, the painting on Grantaire’s wall, anything besides down at Grantaire. 

“It’s just, this was a booty call, wasn’t it? Always is?” She huffs, turning her head to sniffle into her hand. Her hair has long dried and returned to her naturally curly state. 

Grantaire sits up softly, wrapping her hand around Enjolras’ wrist, pulling her down softly so her back is pressed to Grantaire’s chest. 

Grantaire wraps her arms around the smaller woman tightly, snuggling into her. 

“Mi cariño, it was never a booty call. And it was never about the other people in the library, it was and is about you. Now go to sleep, we’ll talk in the morning.” 

—————————

Six months passed, days and nights together; 

Grantaire helping Enjolras restock the shelves at the library or making decisions for new collections. 

Enjolras watching Grantaire box from the side of the ring, planting a kiss after the first two rounds and that’s enough to keep Grantaire going for the rest of the fight. 

Grantaire reading books along with Enjolras, hers in the special font, of course— and they talk all night long. 

Enjolras getting a drawer of Grantaire’s dresser for her clothes she keeps there. 

Grantaire and Enjolras dressing up as Velma and Daphne for Halloween 

Enjolras burning the turkey as their group of friends and Grantaire’s sister, Marceline waited in the other room. 

Grantaire learning about Hanukkah for Enjolras, and her bringing her menorah over in December. 

Enjolras helping Grantaire decorate a small Christmas tree with Courf and Jehan. 

Now it was January and Enjolras couldn’t be happier. She sits in her office, looking out the window, and sees her, her girlfriend striding across the busy street, bundled up in her winter coat with a scarf that Jehan made her wrapped around her neck. She smiles brightly and gets up from her desk, heading out to meet her in the lobby. 

Grantaire sheds her coat and pulls Enjolras into a searing kiss, handing her a brown paper bag 

“You forgot your lunch, I know how you get when you don’t eat.” 

And it makes Enjolras’ heart soar. 

And she is happy. 

And they’re happy.

**Author's Note:**

> BIIIIIIIIIIIIG thank you to the Hoes for Enjolras discord listen to me talk about this fic for the last week sksks 
> 
> joooooin us on the [Hoes for Enjolras Discord](https://discord.gg/4YjwDWrz)


End file.
